A Mercenary's Tale
by Akarezu
Summary: War is hell and a lifetime of fighting for other peoples causes has left more than physical marks on Zola. This story reveals what really happened to Zola and how she became the cold, apathetic woman who led the young soldiers of light in their fight against the ancient Nene.
1. Chapter 1

The wind howled and tore through her chambers like a miniature storm, sending reports and documents alike swirling through the air. While she usually despised messes of any kind, this was one of the rare instances in which she did not care; she needed to breathe. The stale, recycled air sifting in through the ventilation shafts was making her feel sick. She had been unable to leave the Galleon even once in the past five weeks, and she was growing weary of being stuck inside the warship for so long, even though it meant getting further away from Nene every day.

But the flying fortress was about to reach its final destination; a small village on the outskirts of Gran Kingdom's famous canyonlands and would head back to the capital by sunrise tomorrow. There was work to be done and she needed to get ready; the first thing to do, was to take a step back and breathe some fresh air so she could think clearly again -at least, that had been the plan. Her paperwork flying about and the thundering noise of the engines combined with the fact that the air at their current altitude was not only far colder but also thinner than she had initially expected, was not exactly helping.  
With an irritated sigh, she shut the window and turned to regard the mess: there were papers everywhere but on her desk, where they had sat in neat piles, sorted by subject and date for the past month. Not that it really mattered though; she didn't need them anymore and in the end, Szabo's moronic subordinates would be the ones forced to contend with the mess.  
A sharp knock at the door suddenly tore her from her musings:

"General Zola!"

She frowned. Time was running out.

~oOo~

"How is the test run going?" Nene's amplified voice blared from the speakers and echoed off the walls of the Galleons control room.

"Everything has gone smoothly so far, apart from a few minor issues." Szabo answered proudly, hovering directly in front of the screen.

"What issues?" Nene's slightly pixilated face drew into a scowl; his eyes seemed to bore into Szabo despite the fact, that the ancient was hundreds of miles away in one of the capitols many laboratories.

"Just a few malfunctions by the landing platforms, the gates won't open and close properly and one of the water pipes in engine room C burst yesterday, causing a minor flooding."

"And what have you done about it?"

Szabo made to answer, but was cut off by the woman beside him.

"The mechanics are working on the gates as we speak and the engine room has already been drained. The broken pipe will be replaced once we arrive back in the capitol." Zola answered in her usual cool and indifferent tone of voice.

"Good work Zola" The woman lowered her gaze and bowed before Nene's horrid visage on screen. "Is there anything else to report?"

"No sir!" Szabo answered quickly, eager to speak before Zola could interrupt him again.

"Good. I will be expecting a full report the moment you arrive in Castelle"

"Yes sir" Szabo bowed and Zola nodded in confirmation. The screen switched off and Szabo was left alone with the recently appointed General. He was absolutely livid; not only had Zola barged into the room right before his personal report to Nene but she had interrupted him _and_ received credit for his work! Ready to give her a piece of his mind, the robot turned to where she had been standing, only to realize that the woman was already gone.

~oOo~

Night had fallen hours ago and nearly all of the Galleons occupants had turned in for the night. As this was the Galleons' maiden voyage, there were only a minor number of guards stationed on the warship and only a hand full of them had the misfortune of being assigned the nightshift. If she, or rather I _they_ were lucky, she wouldn't have to kill any of them.

Zola glanced up at the black sky through the glass panels lining the hallway; there was no sign of the stars, even the moon was nothing more than a faint glow behind the heavy clouds. It was more than ideal, but the weather needed to hold a while longer to be of any use to her.

Quickening her pace, she briskly strode through the hall, until she reached the corridor leading to the scientists' quarters. The motion sensors detected her and the neon lights on the ceiling switched on, casting a blinding artificial light. She blinked as spots danced in her vision and continued down the corridor. It was lined with white doors and the scientists' names written on the walls beside them made it easier for Nene's messengers and servants to locate and drag individuals to the labs when Nene had one of his insane ideas at four in the morning again. Zola unfortunately had frequently been a victim of those untimely wakeup calls, as she knew more about shadows (Nene's new favorite research topic) than anyone else and he would always get her opinion on things before dragging the rest of his staff out of bed.

If she succeeded tonight, this would no longer be a problem and if she failed, being woken up at an ungodly hour would be the very least of her concerns. She banished the thoughts of what would be done to her if she was caught from her mind and focused again on the task at hand.

She had a mental list of researchers that needed to be dealt with before she left and she began scanning the writing on the doors for those names. Finally, after having cleared half the hall and wondering if she had actually been distracted enough to have taken a wrong turn, she found what she was looking for and sharply knocked on the door after glancing to her sides to make sure she was alone. After a few moments of silence, she heard indistinct rumbling sounds, then the muffled voice of a male, maybe in his forties called: "I'll be there in just a moment!"

She waited patiently until finally, she heard the lock clicking and the door opened, revealing the tired face of a short, angry little man, who glared up at his unexpected visitor. When he realized whom he was dealing with, his expression quickly turned from irritation to fear and he took an involuntary step back.

"General! I wasn't expecting to see you at this hour, please forgive me for making you wait so long." He stuttered. He did not offer to let her come inside.

"You're Dr. Benson?"

"Y-Yes ma'am, but why-"

"Nene has some questions concerning the shadow creator, which he needs answered immediately. You don't mind me coming in, do you?" It clearly wasn't a question and she stepped forward, causing the man to flinch and stumble back further into his apartment.

"Of course, of course! Come inside, I apologize for the mess!"

She walked further into what appeared to be his living room and scanned the small room for signs of the presence of other people, while the scientist closed the door.

"Is there anyone else in here? The information I seek is highly confidential."

"No ma'am, I live alone."

"Good." Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife she kept concealed inside the navy jacket of her uniform. "Then this won't take long"

~oOo~

Zola stepped out of the apartment, not ten minutes later. It had been quick and as clean as could be done. She had been exceedingly careful not to get any blood on herself, to avoid unwelcome questions and suspicion from anyone she might come across. Continuing further down the same hall, she scanned the names on the doors for the next one on her list. She would have to be quicker next time, the longer she was gone, the higher the chances someone would notice she was absent from her chambers.

~oOo~

Szabo drifted down the halls in a horrible mood. Zola had made it look like he had let the accidents happen and then fixed them herself, making him seem completely incompetent! While yes, it had happened under his supervision, _he_ had been the one to oversee the fixing. Zola had taken no part in it whatsoever.

At least Zola hadn't mentioned the fact that another pipe of the same build had burst, leaking cooling fluid into the still damp engine room. The Galleon had to slow down significantly and would continue at little more than half the pace it had been traveling at so far, as they could not risk the engines overheating while water and cooling fluid were pooling on the ground, cooling anything but the engines.

He wondered why she hadn't mentioned it though, was it because she didn't know of it? This was not part of her job, but then again, she had known about the other pipe, so it was unlikely she hadn't heard of this one. But if she did know, then what reasons did she have for staying silent during the report? Definitely not to keep him in Nene's good graces; he knew she hated him nearly as much as he did her. But there could be no possible explanation as to why she didn't let Nene know, unless...

Szabo froze for a moment, debating whether the thought he'd had deserved to be taken seriously. Then, he turned around and hurried back the way he'd come; back to the engine rooms.

~oOo~

Eight men were now dead and there was only one left on her list. The last one however had been a mess: The first to suspect that she had come to kill him; he had immediately run for his communicator after he'd opened the door and found Zola standing there in the dead of night, figuring it could only mean one thing since Nene wasn't around. She'd had no choice but to act quickly rather than cleanly. The whole thing had ended in a violent mess that had left her drenched in his blood. The mental image of his mangled body would undoubtedly haunt her the most whenever she fell asleep that night -if she even lived that long: she still had her doubts about whether or not she would make it out alive.

But she could not afford self-doubt now, or ever. She had run into the scientists' bathroom, to find a towel and had gotten most of the blood off her hands and face. Her clothes however were pretty much ruined and would give her away immediately. The navy color of her uniform did not do much to hide the bloodstains but there was nothing she could do about it now, except abandon her jacket, which boar most of the blood.

Lucky for her, her final victim had very poor eyesight even on the rare occasions when he actually wore his glasses. Zola left the room and quietly closed the door before moving on to the very end of the corridor, where she stopped in front of the last door that simply read "Carlisle".

Like her, he had no last name; those were reserved only for those of noble heritage and the few who had received doctorates and PhDs, as they usually ended up rich when they got old and rich was the equivalent of noble in this country.

Someone, most likely the apartment's occupant had placed a large flowerpot with a sunflower in the corner despite the fact that no sunlight would ever reach this far inside the Galleon. It would die soon and the futile attempt at bringing some color and life into the warship would wither, die, and prove a point Zola had made to the man a long time ago.

But that didn't matter now. What was stopping her from knocking on that door, were serious qualms about killing this man: unlike the other men she had dealt with tonight, this man wasn't a researcher or a scientist, but an archeologist. He had always been kind to her, despite her reputation and demeanor, and more importantly, he had known her father back when he had been alive and working on excavation sites for Nene. The two men hadn't been friends exactly, but from what she could remember they had gotten along well and despite the fact that Carlisle had willingly started working for Nene (as he was the only person in all of Gran Kingdome willing to fund his research) she found no reason to dislike him. In fact, he was the only person she had worked with the past four years she hadn't come to resent: He was kind to everyone he came across, usually kept to himself and was perfectly harmless -except for the fact that his work supplied Nene with the information, the researchers and scientists needed to build the shadow creator. But the lead scientists were dead and without them the knowledge would be useless until Nene found equally qualified replacements, which would take moths if not years. Nevertheless, Nene would find someone eventually and either bribe or threaten them until they were willing to work for him.

She was still debating, when the door suddenly opened with a slight creak to reveal Carlisle standing there in his pajamas, holding a watering can.

"Oh, Zola what a lovely surprise seeing you here tonight!" He greeted her warmly, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about finding her here in the dead of night. "Why don't you come inside for a nice cup of tea?" She hesitated before answering. She was not ready to kill him.

"Why are you up at this time of night?" she asked calmly, ignoring his question and eying the watering can.

"Oh, I've been having trouble sleeping and woke up a few minutes ago. Remembered I'd forgotten about watering this lovely little thing and thought I'd take care of it before I forget it again." He smiled and moved past her to get close enough to the flowerpot to water the plant. Zola just stood there a moment; this was not what she had expected, but she couldn't turn away now … or could she? Carlisle put down the half-empty watering can next to the pot and smiled up at Zola "How about some tea? I just put on the kettle; there should be just enough water for two cups!"

"I'm rather busy right now"

"Still working so late at night? That's very commendable, but please come in, I have something I've been meaning to give you."

"I really don't-."

"It'll only take a moment dear, I assure you I'm not trying to waste your precious time" He cut her off, heading back to the door and Zola, surprised at his abruptness moved a step back to make room for the old man, before she reluctantly followed him inside.

"Ah, there's nothing better than the prospect of coming home to a nice warm cup of tea after a long day at work." he sighed contently even though his work shift had ended four hours ago and Zola's' never really did. He offered her a steaming glass, but she declined. The apartment looked identical to the other ones she had been in; since this was just the maiden voyage and the Galleon would not be used on a regular basis for some time, there was no point in decorating it with personal belongings. "You're sure you don't want any tea?" She was about to snap at him that she'd already told him no and really didn't have time for this, but stopped herself.

"No thank you" There wasn't any point in yelling at the old man. Despite everything, she valued good manners.

"Ah well, I guess it can't be helped, you are your father's daughter after all, always busy with work." He gazed at Zola for a moment, the mention of her father riling up emotions and memories she had tried very hard to bury. "Who would have thought the little girl running across those ruins, always getting herself into trouble would one day be my superior?" He smiled up at her, a sad glint in his eyes. "Your father would be very proud." Zola shifted uncomfortably though she didn't let any emotion show on her face. She did not want to be reminded of the past.

"What is it you wanted from me?"

"Want from you? Oh no, quite the opposite, I have something to give you."

~oOo~

Szabo hovered through the engine rooms, searching for the remnants of the broken pipes. Now that the water had been shut off, they were no longer leaking and Szabo was having a difficult time remembering where the damaged pipes had been exactly. After pacing through the room for a few minutes, he found the water pipe and scanned the length of it until he saw a small, circular hole, where the water had sprayed out. He memorized the exact shape and moved on until eventually he found the pipes for the cooling fluid. It took a while but he did end up finding the place where it had begun to leak. It only took one glance to confirm his suspicions. If Szabo had a mouth, he would be smiling now. This pipe hadn't burst due to technical problems or cheap materials; someone had stabbed it with a knife. And Szabo knew exactly who had done it.

~oOo~

Carlisle had started talking about his own daughter Sahila and how she had been accompanying him on their expedition into the sealed grounds with Nene's team, when the ceiling had caved in. The falling debris had killed her along with everyone else, except for Carlisle who had fled outside with Nene and Zola, who had been left behind. The reminder of those events had more than unsettled her and on top of everything else, the old man had rushed into his bedroom and emerged with an old jewelry box. He'd pulled out a simple silver bracelet and said it had belonged to his daughter. He wanted her to have it, but she had declined. However, the man wouldn't stop going on and on about how much he wanted her to have it and in the end, she agreed to take it under the condition that he would stop pestering her and let her get on with her work. Carlisle had accepted her terms with a laugh and insisted she put it on immediately. It was a tight fit and a sense of unease filled her when Carlisle snapped it shut. Zola vowed to herself, to take it off the first chance she got.

"Be careful dear!" Carlisle said sincerely, as Zola left his apartment, feeling uncomfortable and annoyed. She hadn't been able to bring herself to kill him.

"Don't worry, I won't lose it" Zola sighed.

"Oh, I know you won't" He murmured to himself, but before she could ask, he'd already shut the door.

Mentally shaking her head at his antics, she walked back to the corridor she had come from. Before she made it to the end, however she heard the creak of a door being opened and turned to see the old man running towards her at a surprising speed for someone his age.

"Zola, wait!" he called, breathless by the time he reached her.

"What is it?" She asked, letting her irritation leak into her voice and watched as the man tried to catch his breath.

"I-" He heaved; looking worried "I'm sorry" He fidgeted for a moment and pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her.

She turned the small object in her hand and found nothing special about it; it was a small silver key that gleamed in the light. It looked vaguely familiar but she couldn't remember where she'd seen it before. At second glance, she saw that the number '35' etched into it. "What Is this for?"

"You're bright enough to figure it out when the time comes." He answered but the expression on his face made her wonder if he knew what it was for himself.

"Why are you acting like this?" She demanded, growing increasingly suspicious at the man.

"I..." he sighed "I've done some things while working here, that I regret and I know I can't make up for them but...this might be a start." Zola was about to ask again what had got into him, when he suddenly started backing away from her. "I need to go now, watch out for yourself." He murmured and bolted back into his apartment, leaving Zola standing in the hall, feeling something akin to confusion. Something was very wrong here.

Without hesitating another moment, she spun on her heels and briskly strode back to her final target, mentally swearing for having wasted so much precious time.

~oOo~

Szabo hurried through the hallway as fast as he could. Right from the moment Nene had introduced her, Szabo had hated Zola and that hate had only fueled his suspicion of her. But until now, she had done nothing that would indicate that she was indeed plotting against them, as he'd always expected her to. Actually, she had proven herself to be a valuable asset to Gran Kingdome and Szabo had watched in disdain, as she flew up the ranks until she had surpassed even him. The only good thing to come out of that, was that it annoyed Logi to no end that Zola had reached the same rank it had taken him seven years of hard work to achieve, in a mere three. Nene may have trusted her, but Szabo never would. And this? This was just too good to ignore! Of course, he didn't have any proof that Zola was working against them yet; there were no surveillance cameras in the engine rooms, but if he was correct, he would get the chance to catch her doing something much, much worse than damaging the engines tonight. He would not stop her himself, naturally. In fact, he would wait until she had done a bit of damage, until he had just enough footage to prove to Nene that she was a traitor. Then he would send for someone to deal with her personally. Almost bouncing with glee, Szabo hovered towards the surveillance room.

~oOo~

"General Zola, Sir!" The soldier greeted her with a shout, staring straight ahead, his right hand held to his forehead like he had been taught.

"Do I look like a sir to you?" She asked in a tone suggesting that if any more provocation was offered, she would have his head on a spike.

"No Ma'am, I apologize! It won't happen again!" He was visibly nervous; beads of sweat were running down his temple and his hand was shaking slightly. Zola had always had a certain reputation within Gran Kingdome's army and after the incident with Logi, they had learned to fear her.

"It had better not" She scowled. His composure was already faltering and he was desperately trying to avoid her gaze. Gran Kingdome's guards really were beyond pitiful. "I demand access to this hall."

"I'm sorry Ma'am; I am not authorized to let anyone enter without previously receiving notice by my captain." The guard said, his voice wavering.

"You did hear what I just said, didn't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am but I'm not authorized-"

"I am here on Nene's _direct_ orders, so if you don't want to end up in jail I strongly advise you to open the door."

"But my captain said-"

"I outrank your captain and I am ordering you to open the door _this instant"_

"Y-Yes Ma'am!" He turned around and raised the keycard to the slot. It took him two tries before his hands stopped shaking enough for him to slide it through properly. Zola waited, not letting any of her impatience show, as it took nearly all her self-control not to glance around the corridor to see if anyone had seen this exchange. All it would take was one guard with a tinge of common sense and Logi would be on her heels. The moron entered the code, the door slid open with a hissing noise and the lights inside the hall switched on. Zola blinked into the sudden brightness and turned back to the guard while the spots in her vision slowly began to fade.

"You are not to let anyone inside until I come back out"

"But what if-"

"Are you _trying_ to get arrested for defying orders?" She demanded, flat out glaring at him.

"No-Ma'am I won't let anyone else inside"

"Good" She nodded as she stepped inside and flicked the switch to her left. The doors slid closed with a hiss.

~oOo~

Szabo watched what was going on in the control room from where he stood (or rather hovered) in front of the many screens lining the wall of the surveillance room. Zola had wasted no time and started typing away at the keyboards at an impressive speed. She was deleting files no doubt, though the camera could not zoom in far enough for him to see which ones. It didn't really matter to him anyway; she was destroying Gran Kingdome's property and Szabo finally had all the proof he needed. Nene was going to kill here for this -if she was lucky. He pushed one of the smaller buttons on the control panel and a moment later, a messenger walked in and bowed before the robot. Szabo smiled. In a mere five minutes, Zola would regret ever underestimating him.

~oOo~

Zola was working as quickly as she could; she had already managed to destroy the main files on shadows and shadow creation, using the access codes she had received with her new rank. However, there was still so much more she needed to delete before she could even consider leaving the Galleon. Another twenty minutes was all she needed, then she would head back to her quarters, escape the warship on Killerbat's back and pray they wouldn't realize what she had done until she made it into the canyonlands. The canyons were a natural labyrinth so even if anyone decided to search for her in there, the chances of them finding her would be incredibly slim.

Zola gritted her teeth, as she was denied access to the third file in a row. She realized deleting the files like this was not going to work; she couldn't afford to let any knowledge on shadows remain in Nene's hands. The only other option she had was to summon Killerbat and destroy the computer, but that would draw the attention of the entire military force onto her. If she went along with her original plan, they would suspect her after they noticed her absence, but by the time they finally realized she had killed the researchers and destroyed the files and managed put together a searching party, she would be long gone. If she used her shadow however, it would be obvious who had done this since she was the only shadow wielder in all of Gran Kingdome. The noise and explosions would set off the alarms and within ten minutes, every mechat would be in the air, searching for her. They were faster than Killerbat and she could only keep him summoned for a maximum of two hours. If she didn't make it into the canyons in time, there would be no escape. But even if she did make it, Gran Kingdome's outposts would be alerted and ground troops would be sent to search for her.

Zola debated if the risk was worth it for a moment, and finally reached a decision; closing her eyes and clearing her mind of all thoughts and emotions as she spoke to her shadow. A blue aura suddenly flashed around her and cast an eerie light onto the room. However, right when Killerbat tried to emerge from the ground, a sharp pain flashed in Zola's wrist and broke her concentration. The aura faded to nothing and with it, the pain disappeared too.

 _What the hell-_

A sudden flash on the giant screen interrupted her thoughts and Zola looked up to see the words 'Shadow Repressor' depicted above an image of the silver bracelet, Carlisle had given her. Zola cursed angrily. Carlisle may not have been able to hear her, but Szabo would. She knew this was his doing, and he must have been watching her through the security cameras.

Raising her right arm to inspect the device, she hoped against her better judgement that there would be a simple way to get it off, but there was no clasp or anything that would indicate where the thing could be opened. She knew there was no way to force the thing open, but there had to be a remote somewhere that would unlock it. Zola knew vaguely how the damn thing worked; when the shadow wielder summoned his shadow, the shadow repressor would absorb a certain amount of the energy and use it to cancel out the shadow's. The pain she had felt must have been the device overheating. Zola cursed at Szabo again and closed her eyes, to try to summon Killerbat. The shadow repressor could only absorb a finite amount of energy; if she managed to exceed that, she would be able to summon Killerbat and hopefully, the repressor would break. Her mind finally cleared, she spoke to her shadow and the aura flashed around her.

A sudden hissing noise completely shattered her concentration, causing her aura to fade again as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the room. Zola did not have to look up, to know who it was. Another hiss signaled that the doors had closed, sealing them both inside. Zola knew she wouldn't be able to summon her shadow now and backed away from the keyboards as a cold sense of dread washed over her.

"Hello Zola" Logi said, a predatory smile playing at his lips as he drew his sword.

 **Author's notes:**

 **Finally, after an eternity of writing the first chapter is finally up! *throws confetti***

 **As you may have noticed, the story starts a few years before the anime, right when Zola decided to turn on Nene and destroy his work. This fics focus will be on Zola and what happened to her before she met Shu and the other shadow wielders, as well as feature an OC who will be playing an important role later on. The kids will be a part of this story too, but it will be a while before they show up. That's all I'll say for now ;)**

 **This turned out a bit longer than I thought it would so consider it a combination of prolog and chapter one. Chapters will probably be about two to three thousand words long and will usually be updated every month, depending on how much motivation and time I have to write.**

 **Reviews would be very much appreciated, as they serve as great motivation and help me better my writing. Even if it's just a line or two, any kind of feedback would be great! :D**

 **If you have any comments, requests, questions or noticed mistakes of any kind, please feel free to send me a pm, I promise I'll answer as soon as I can.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Dragon or any of its characters and sadly, I am not making any money with this**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

"We both know you don't start fights you can't win, so you might as well surrender now," Logi said calmly. Neither his voice nor his expressions gave anything away, but Zola knew him well enough to realize that the general was hoping she would attack. However, Zola was no fool; she knew she was outmatched. Logi was physically stronger than her and his skill with a sword far surpassed even hers. Her strength lay in her shadow, but without it, she didn't stand a chance against him. The only thing that might save her was the fact that Logi would need to keep her alive, as Nene would not be very forgiving if Logi deprived him of his chance to exact his revenge on her.

"You know Szabo always told us you were going to betray Lord Nene. I believe the first thing he said when you left the room after Nene introduced you was: 'There is no way she's on our side; Zola ran away after her father died, she must still blame you for what happened. It would be foolish to trust this woman!' Of course, we all knew he felt threatened; Szabo feared Nene would lose interest in him and start favoring you. And rightfully so. The more obvious it became that Nene _did_ in fact favor you, the more Szabo tried to convince us you were the enemy. We put his warnings off as mere pettiness because we were all convinced you were on our side" Logi's face drew into a scowl „Until last month. You made a grave mistake and judging by that bracelet you are wearing, you lost not only my trust, but Nene's as well."

Zola said nothing. There was no way she would be able to talk her way out of this and playing along with Logi's mind games would only delay the inevitable. She needed to come up with a very good plan and she needed to do it now.

"I once considered you family" Logi continued, when she didn't respond "but you are no longer the same person you were back then. You disfigured my face but continue to act like nothing happened; you never apologized and never cared. Tell me Zola, why did you do it?"

Logi glared down at her in resentment but Zola neither moved, nor did she answer; she only held his gaze and hoped he would keep talking so she had time to think. A million thoughts were buzzing through her head but as far as she could tell, there was no way out; she was trapped.

"Zola, you put on a grand show of being emotionless, you pretend that you don't feel or care about anything, but I know you can feel pain" Logi said sadistically as the grip on his sword tightened.

At those words, an idea flashed through Zola's mind and moments later, she had her plan. The chances of it succeeding were slim and she would likely come out of it badly wounded but this awful plan was all she had right now. Logi clearly wanted revenge and she would have to use this to her advantage.

 _Let's give him what he wants then!_

She drew her sword and without further warning, charged at the general. Logi's loathing expression turned to one of confidence and excitement as he raised his sword in turn, ready to parry her attack. Both of them knew he was going to win this fight.

~oOo~

Szabo watched with glee, as the battle finally began. He had to admit that Zola was a brilliant warrior and with her shadow at her side, she was easily the strongest fighter in all of Gran Kingdom. Without her shadow however, she was not: she might have been _one_ of the best swordsmen and tacticians, but not _the_ best. Logi's intelligence, strength and a most importantly, a lifetime of fighting experience made him a better swordsman than Zola could ever hope to be. Logi had been trained by Gran Kingdom's finest swordsmen from a very early age on, whereas Zola had merely learned to fight in the army. She didn't stand a chance against him.

Szabo continued to watch what was happening on screen with excitement; Zola was clearly losing the fight and Szabo could tell Logi was enjoying himself. Of course he was; Zola had permanently disfigured his face a month ago and now he finally had his chance to get his revenge. Szabo just hoped he wouldn't go too far, since Lord Nene would want Zola alive. Not only because he needed every bit of information on shadows he could get from Zola, but also because he would want to make her suffer for her betrayal himself. Nene did not take kindly to traitors. Szabo was enjoying every moment of this and it was nothing compared to what was in store for Zola once Lord Nene got his hands on her.

~oOo~

Zola crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor, no longer able to keep herself upright. The impact had left her head spinning violently and she fought to stay conscious. Logi said something, probably another insult, but she couldn't understand him; the ringing in her ears was so loud it was drowning out all other noise. Zola's mind was in a fog and she just lay there a minute, as the high-pitched ringing slowly died down. She finally blinked her eyes open and waited a moment, until her blurred vision returned to normal. Logi was standing ten feet away with his arms crossed and an expression of disgust on his face as he leered down at her. Using what little strength she had left, Zola sat up, leaning on the wall for support.

Her sword lay under a table across the room, but even if it had been within reach, there was no way she could wield it. She needed both hands to parry and attack, but the bones in her left hand were shattered and she knew part of her lower arm was broken as well. Things hadn't quite gone according to plan, as she had severely underestimated Logi: he had thought his attacks through, rather than blindly attacking her in his rage as she had expected. In one precise strike of his long-sword, he had twisted her sword out of her grip and then before she had time to react, he had kicked her legs out from under her and stomped down on her left hand, effectively crushing the bones and leaving her with a broken arm and hand. The pain had been excruciating, but the adrenaline rushing through her system had quickly started numbing the pain. Logi had waited patiently for the few minutes it took for her to somewhat recover and then resorted to using martial arts to fight her. Zola had mastered hand-to-hand combat years ago and under normal conditions, she may have been able to beat him but with only one functioning arm, she had hardly been able to defend herself against his attacks. A mere five minutes later, she found herself on the floor with a bad concussion, broken bones and more cuts and bruises than she cared to think about.

"Why did you do it Zola? What could you possibly gain from all this? You could have come so far working under Nene, why would you throw everything you have achieved away?" Logi asked, as he watched her slowly heave herself up off the ground. Dizziness overcame her, but Zola did her best to ignore it, as she stood.

"You were right about what you said before" She growled, ignoring his question as she glared up at him "I don't start fights I can't win." With those words, she pressed a button on the control-panel. Only now did Logi seem to notice she was standing right next to the door.

"You know you can't outrun me in your pitiful state" He spat and didn't bother moving towards her as the doors opened.

"I don't have to" Zola said with a wry grin and pulled on the red emergency lever mounted to the wall. Realization flashed in Logi's eyes, but it was too late for him to stop her: alarms blared and Zola dove out of the room, right before a solid iron wall came crashing down from the ceiling, sealing Logi inside.

~oOo~

Szabo meanwhile, was in a state of panic; Nene was going to kill him for messing this up and not immediately informing him, when Zola's betrayal had become clear. Szabo had wanted to present his proof and Zola in shackles to his master, which would have earned him more than just a promotion. Now, Lord Nene would likely have him executed for this mess if he didn't manage to fix it immediately. The problem with the emergency system Zola had activated, was that it had been intended to protect the researchers and workers in case there was an attack on the Galleon; no one could get past the iron wall inside the rooms in which the emergency lever had been pulled and no one could get out. In the unlikely event, that an enemy managed to get inside the Galleon, the iron walls would seal the intruder into the rooms and keep them there until enough forces were mobilized to bring them to a prison cell. If the attackers were running around freely, the people inside the rooms could seal themselves inside, to protect themselves from a potential kidnapping or murder. The only way to get the wall to retract was to enter a code only Nene knew into the screen beneath the emergency lever. This made it impossible for intruders to get in or out of the rooms by threatening Nene's subordinates into giving them the codes, but also made it impossible for Szabo to get Logi out of the hall. Szabo was left with no choice, but to send a message to the capital, where Nene would want to know exactly why he had been awoken at two in the morning and whose fault it was that things had gone so horribly wrong since Szabo's report five hours ago. Nene was going to kill him for letting this happen.

~oOo~

Zola sat on the ground with her back against the iron wall and tried to think, while the dizziness slowly wore off. Even though luck never seemed to be on her side (the reason Dragnov absolutely refused to work with her), she had not expected things to go so fantastically wrong. Without her shadow, she had no way to defeat Logi or destroy the Computer and what was worse; she could not escape the Galleon. Zola knew there was nowhere she could hide; soldiers would be searching for her in every corner of the warship soon. In fact, she was surprised they hadn't showed up to arrest her yet. She was in serious trouble but then again, she thought wryly, she had managed to get herself out of worse situations in the past. Zola frowned at the unwelcome memories. She would do better this time.

Shrill alarms suddenly sounded and tore Zola from her musings. She was wasting precious time, concussion or not, she needed to get away from the hall immediately. Zola reached up with her uninjured hand and grasped the decorative railing to help support her as she heaved herself up off the ground. The world started spinning again and she closed her eyes against the nausea.

 _Not good._

She leaned on the railing for support and waited a few moments until she felt she wouldn't topple over if she moved, while the alarm blared on in a high-pitched wail. Then, she slowly made her way down the hall. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but she didn't have the energy and in any case, she didn't know where she was going yet. Zola briefly considered the few options she had and decided that there was no hiding in the Galleon; she needed to get off it as quickly as she possibly could. That left her with only two more options: she could both barricade herself into her quarters and try to remove the shadow repressor from her wrist, or hijack an aircraft. Finally making a decision, she turned left at the end of the corridor and headed towards the landing bay.

 **Author's notes:**

 **No matter how short, I appreciate every review and if you have any questions, comments or noticed mistakes, feel free to send me a pm.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own blue dragon, if I did I would have hired artists with an understanding of basic anatomy (I mean seriously, in some scenes their heads are wider than their hips!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own blue dragon, if I did I would be busy animating season three rather than rewriting season one…**

Zola ducked behind the corner when she heard them. The sound of heavy boots hitting the ground echoed off the walls and judging by the noise, there were more than one, possibly four or five soldiers marching through the corridor she had been in just moments ago. The former general scanned the hall she had just fled into and much to her horror, found herself stuck in a dead end. Realizing the danger she was in, Zola risked a glance around the corner; there was another corridor opposite of the one she was currently in and as opposed to hers, it actually led to more corridors and would have offered her multiple escape routes. Zola had a choice; she could either stay in the dead end and hope against all odds that the soldiers would not look for her there or run into the other corridor but risk being seen. It was an easy choice, but the moment she got ready to run, she registered movement in her peripheral vision. Zola quickly retreated back into the dead end, as the first soldiers rounded the corner and she cursed at herself for not having acted quicker.

As she took a closer look at the corridor she was in, Zola realized that there was nothing to hide behind; no large plants or furniture and the only two doors were undoubtedly locked. The sound of footsteps was steadily getting louder as the soldiers approached and it would only be a matter of moments, before they found her. With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, Zola pressed her back flat against the wall and prayed they wouldn't look her way. It was then, that she noticed something hard pressing into her back. She turned slightly and found a cord running up the wall and as her gaze followed it, she realized it was connected to the ceiling lights. Without hesitating, she reached to the back of her belt and pulled out her knife with her functioning hand, before she took a few steps back and threw it with absolute precision. The knife severed the cord, sending off a shower of sparks, before the lights went out. Zola headed deeper into the dead end, until she was shrouded in darkness and again stood flat against the wall. Right at that moment, the soldiers reached the entrance to her corridor and stopped. "Alright we'll have to split up again. You two, search that corridor and catch up with us when you're done. If you find her, you know what to do." A male voice, undoubtedly that of the leader of the little squad ordered.

"But sir, the motion sensors would have turned on the lights if anyone was in there" A slightly younger voice chimed in and for a moment Zola was hopeful that they would move on.

"It doesn't matter, we have strict orders to search every inch of this ship and we will do exactly that. Now go!" The older voice ordered, sounding agitated this time.

Zola turned her head the fraction of an inch, as she heard the two soldiers approach. They were relatively tall and armed with assault rifles. Even with the element of surprise on her side, she did not like her chances against those weapons, especially since she knew how trigger happy most of Nene's younger soldiers were. As the two men grew closer, Zola held her breath; they might not have been able to see her in the dark, but the slightest sound would immediately give away her position. The men were getting closer. She could no longer see them in the dark, however the sound of their footsteps told her exactly where they were. When they were only a few feet away from her, the soldiers stopped. "How are we even supposed to find anyone in here? I can't see anything!" The sound of the soldiers' voice seemed unnaturally loud in the dark and it took all the self-control Zola had to resist the urge to attack and run. "We don't." A different voice answered. "It's a dead end, there's no reason for her to be in here if she's trying to get off the ship"

"I guess that makes sense" The other voice replied and she could clearly hear the sound of metal scraping against metal as the soldier adjusted his hold on his weapon. "Let's head back then, this is pointless"

"No, we need to wait a while, make the captain think we actually searched in here"

"Fine then" the owner of that voice grunted.

Zola was getting anxious; the longer they stayed, the better their eyes would adjust to the dark and they would finally realize that she was standing right in front of them. Minutes that felt like hours passed and the only sounds Zola could hear, were the sound of her hammering heartbeat and the soldiers' footsteps as they lazily paced around the corridor. She needed to do something; standing there, waiting to be found and killed went against all of her training and instincts, but both attacking and running away would end in almost certain death. And so she waited, growing increasingly restless until the sudden sound of the soldiers voice nearly made her jump. "C'mon, lets catch up with the others, we've been gone long enough" Without another word, the soldiers left and the sound of their steps grew steadily quieter, until she was sure they had finally gone.

Zola drew in a sharp breath, in desperate need of oxygen. It took her a few minutes to get her erratic breathing and heartbeat under control, and by that time the adrenaline had faded enough for fatigue to set in. She was still severely injured and now she was starting to feel the painful throbbing in her left Hand again. She had instinctively been cradling it with her functioning arm and so far, and had only noticed an uncomfortable stiffness and sharp pain at the slightest attempts at moving her fingers. But now, even though she was keeping the arm still, she felt an increasing amount of pain in her limb. It was time to finally get off the ship and to someplace where she could get medical attention, before things got worse. After a quick glance around the corner to make sure she was alone, Zola rushed across the hall and into the corridor the soldiers had disappeared into.

~oOo~

Szabo roared in anger, slamming his fist down onto the control panel. The young messenger yelped and bolted for the door in a panic; he'd had the unfortunate task of informing Szabo that the search for Zola had so far been unsuccessful and really didn't want the robot to accidentally kill him in his fury. Szabo didn't even notice the messengers' departure, as his anger slowly gave way to fear. His brilliant plan was falling apart and rather than a promotion, he was going to get an execution if he didn't catch Zola soon. It had taken Szabo far too long to convince the soldiers that Zola was the enemy and needed to be captured, but now all soldiers were on high alert and were patrolling the warship in search of the traitor. The past fifteen minutes Szabo had spent desperately trying to get the gates that were sealing in Logi to open, but there really was no way to do it without Nene's codes. In Szabos opinion, this was all Logis fault; the general should not have let that woman trick him! If he had not been stupid enough to get himself locked up in that hall, everything would have worked out perfectly! Yes; he would pin this mess on Logi and let Nene take his anger out on him instead.

~oOo~

Since Zola had left the dead end there had been several narrow misses, where nothing but pure luck had stopped the soldiers from spotting her. Her concentration and energy were both fading and Zola knew she was running out of time. However, since she suspected that Szabo would have the direct route to the landing bay heavily patrolled, she was forced to take an alternative route that led through labyrinths of corridors even she hadn't been in yet. She was getting closer though, the entrance to the landing-bay she was looking for was not well known and used mostly by the mechanics, so the chances of running into heavily armed forces there were slim. Or at least slimmer than they would be at the main entrance. After countless twists, turns and sheer endless corridors, she finally found what she was looking for and glanced around the corner into the next hall. There it was; the heavy metal door, leading into the landing bay. Unfortunately, it was guarded by two Gran Kingdome soldiers. They appeared to be unarmed but nevertheless, taking on both of them at once would be too risky. Fighting was out of the question, so she needed to come up with a plan. Preferably one that left her with less injuries than the last one had.

An idea struck her and Zola headed back the way she'd came until she found what she was looking for; a little potted plant sitting on a windowsill. Zola unceremoniously uprooted the plant and threw it to the side, before she grabbed the pot and headed to the far end of the hall, where her corridor crossed the one with the metal door in it. In a swift movement, she threw the pot straight ahead into the next corridor. The pot shattered the moment it hit the ground and Zola pressed herself against the wall, hoping she wouldn't be seen right away. She could hear the soldiers running to find out what had happened and once they had passed her, Zola ran to the door. Unfortunately, there was another soldier she hadn't seen before, and without a second thought, she attacked. The soldier was taller than her, stronger too but he hadn't been expecting her attack and one swift kick to the backs of his knees was all it took to for Zola to unbalance him. The man went down with a surprised yell that alarmed his comrades, but Zola didn't look back as she ran up to the door as fast as she could and quickly began typing in the security code into the screen mounted next to it. The machine informed her that it was processing, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the three guards speeding towards her. Finally, the screen turned green and read "access granted", as the lock clicked open. Zola rushed inside and slammed the door shut, seconds before the men caught up to her. She could hear them banging their fists against the door from the other side and Zola knew it would be a matter of seconds before they too entered the code. Without hesitating another moment, Zola pulled the red emergency lever next to the door and stood back as the iron walls came crashing down in front of all doors leading into the landing bay. It had worked on Logi and hopefully this trick would buy her enough time to find a mechat and finally escape.

~oOo~

Szabo was both furious and terrified at the same time. He'd just finished talking to Lord Nene and if robots could shake with fear, he'd be trembling right now. His master had been livid to say the very least and had promised him a horrid death if he didn't find and secure Zola within the hour. Time was of the essence and after much discussion and tirades of apologies from Szabo, Nene had given him the codes necessary to free Logi. The malice in Nenes' voice had surprised evenhim, and Szabo felt like he was being treated unjustly since Zola was the one who had betrayed them and he had done all he could in order to stop her. In fact, he felt he should have been praised for coming up with the idea for the shadow repressor but Nene hadn't wanted to hear any of it. Results were what counted with Nene and Szabo would do anything it took to get them. Just as he made to leave the room, another messenger stepped in and bowed before the robot.

"Szabo sir, Zola has been sighted by the landing bay, but the emergency system has been activated and we can't get in"

A feeling of great relief washed over Szabo; they finally knew where she was and with the codes he'd just received from Nene, they would catch that traitor in no time. The only question was whether or not to let Logi out before they captured Zola, after all she was unarmed and unable to summon her shadow. Szabo laughed. It would be no problem at all.

~oOo~

Zola ran through the endless rows of mechats, trying to find one that was small enough to maneuver through the canyons. Every step she took on the metal floor sent echoes across the hall, but it didn't matter because as far as she could tell, she was alone. Unfortunately, flying mechats (or any form of aircraft for that matter) was one of the few things she hadn't been trained to do and quite frankly, she had never expected the need for her to fly one ever to arise. So far, her personal pilot had flown her whenever she needed to travel far distances and in any case, Killerbat should have been able to get her anywhere a pilot could not. But unfortunately, she had ordered her pilot to remain in the capital while she was away and now that she was unable to summon Killerbat, she had no choice but to try and fly the mechat herself.

Finally, she reached a row of newer and smaller models, used for scouting out terrain inaccessible by foot, such as steep mountain slopes or underwater caves. It would work perfectly in the canyons. A quick pull of the lever by the door of the nearest mechat was all it took for the door to open and a short ladder to descended to the ground. Zola swiftly climbed inside and shut the door behind her. She sat down in the pilots' seat and scanned the controls, trying to make sense of all the buttons, levers and gears. Zola remembered the basics, from when she had observed her pilot and pushed a red button to her right which caused the mechat to come to life with a whirr. Lights switched on, the screens lit up and an array of buttons on the control panel suddenly started blinking. She pressed the box labeled 'start' on the touchscreen.

"Please insert keys." A mechanical voice coming from the speakers ordered.

 _Damn._

Zola pressed the button again, but got the same response. She began typing away on the screen, hoping that one of her many access-codes would work, but the machine continued to demand a key to be inserted. Zola suppressed an angry growl and searched the dashboard until she found the slot where the key was supposed to be inserted. The key couldn't be too big, maybe one of the pilots had lost one inside the mechat or the great hall, but she didn't honestly believe she'd end up lucky enough to find one. Zola suddenly remembered the key Carlisle had given her and pulled it out of her pocket. Yes, the old man _had_ betrayed her, but she was running out of time and she was desperate, so she decided to give it a try. The key fit perfectly into the slot and for a moment, relief washed over her. However after a moment of absolute silence, the mechanical voice blared:

"The key is not compatible with this system, please insert the correct key."

Zola did not let this discourage her; the key may not have fit this mechat, but it would hopefully work in another. She retracted the key and glanced at the inscription again. She held the key up against the light and saw the number 35 etched into one side, but when she inspected the other side, she only found "L" etched into the metal. Zola finally realized what it meant and mentally scolded herself for taking so long to figure it out. She ran out of the ship and hurried past rows and rows of mechats of all shapes and sizes. Finally, she reached the section where the landsharks were parked and slowed down, to read the numbers written on their side beneath Gran Kingdome's insignia. She found the inscription L-35 on a smaller, gray model and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She walked up to the control panel and inserted the key into the slot: the engine roared to life and the lights and display in front of her switched on. A feeling of relief flowed through her; maybe she would make it out of the Galleon after all. She scanned the buttons and switches in front of her and pushed the button with the picture of a bent rectangle on it. The metal hood that covered the windshield lifted with a mechanical whirring noise. Now that she could see through the glass, she realized she needed to open the landing bay's gates before she even attempted to fly the landshark. Zola bolted from the mechat and finally reached the lever next to the doors she'd locked when she'd entered the landing bay. She pulled it down and the gates started opening with an earsplitting shriek. Unfortunately, the gates weren't the only things that started opening; right at that moment, the iron walls that had been keeping Szabos forces out began retracting. Realizing what was going on, Zola cursed loudly as she ran back to the landshark. She rushed through the rows of mechats, not daring to look back. Once she reached the ship, she got in, closed the doors and buckled herself into the pilots' seat.

It wouldn't take them long to find her, so she wasted no time to reactivate the landshark and typed 'vertical takeoff' into the touchscreen. Without further warning, the ship lifted off the ground and hovered in midair, until Zola gripped the joystick and gently pushed it forward. The ship lurched forward with surprising speed and Zola pulled the joystick back, to stop the mechat from crashing into the nearest wall. There was another lever that read 'altitude' and Zola gently pushed it upwards. The ship ascended smoothly until Zola let go of the lever and bent the joystick to the right. The ship turned on the spot in midair and the landsharks' tail slammed into the wall, where it left a giant dent in the metal. The impact shook the entire ship and Zola needed a moment to recover, as the concussion Logi had given her still had her feeling rather dizzy. She blinked as the double vision went away and pushed the joystick forwards. The ship slowly flew across the giant hall, as Zola directed it towards the open gates. When she thought she saw movement, Zola narrowed her eyes and realized they were closing. A quick glance out the window revealed Szabo and a small army of soldiers running about the hall. Many of them were getting into mechats, undoubtedly to pursue her, should she make it out in time. It was impossible to tell from Zolas position, but she could have sworn that damn robot looked smug. However, Zola wouldn't let Szabo stop her from escaping and pushed the joystick forwards, causing the ship to shoot towards the closing gates at a greater speed. When to her horror, the gates closed with a shuddering bang, she didn't stop the mechat; she accelerated. This was her only chance at escape and she was not going to waste it. Reaching forward, she typed the word 'drill' into the screen. The blades in the front of the ship whirred to life and Zola prayed that if they could cut and dig through stone they would be able to deal with the Galleons solid iron gates as well.

"Brace for impact" A mechanical voice from the speakers blared, as the Landshark sped towards the closed gates.

~oOo~

Szabo watched in horror, as the landshark sped towards the gates. Had Zola gone completely insane or was she just trying to get herself killed? When the drills on the front of the hijacked ship suddenly began to spin, he had his answer: the woman was insane. There was no way the little landshark could drill a hole through the gates. Or at least Szabo really; _really_ hoped there was no way. The soldiers gathered around him covered their ears when they realized what was about to happen. The pirated aircraft collided with the wall in an earsplitting shriek of metal scraping against metal. The soldiers flinched at the noise, but Szabo could not tear his eyes away: a shower of sparks flew from the front of the ship, and before his failure could even sink in properly, the landshark had gone.

 **Author's notes:**

 **I am so sorry it took so long to update this story. I've been busier with schoolwork than ever before and it's only going to get worse in the coming months. However, as a little thank you to Zolaalathaia I pulled myself together and finally finished this chapter.**

 **As always, reviews are very much appreciated and serve as the best kind of motivation!**


	4. Chapter 4

Zola had taken a full twenty minutes to fully recover from the impact which had left her with ringing ears, dizziness and a migraine that had yet to stop. In that time, she had let the aircraft run on autopilot and so far, there had been no sign of any pursuers -but that didn't mean they wouldn't show up eventually.

Zola finally decided to take control over the flight and gently lowered the Landshark into the canyons, flying as low as she dared. She flew for quite some time, always keeping an eye on the radar in case someone did show up. This gave her time to think; she needed to figure out where to go from here. Her original plan had been to head for the border and leave Gran Kingdome as far behind as possible, to travel as far east as she could go and the start looking for small villages to take cover in. She had extensive plans as to what she would do from then on, but once she managed to leave the country, she would have plenty of time. It would take Nene years to reach the same stage he had been at before she destroyed his work, which was vital, as she needed time, and lots of it. According to her calculations, they could not be older than seven at this point. Far too young, childish, inexperienced. No. She needed to wait. She only hoped Nene would take his time.

An ear-splitting shriek suddenly tore her from her musings, and she scanned the dashboard for an updated damage report, as the screen flashed bright red, alerting her to the fact that a small part of the wing had become unhinged. Zola, turned to her right and watched as the giant piece of metal rattled in the force of the winds, finally giving out under the pressure and tearing off the ship with one final shriek. Zola watched with growing horror as it fell to the depths, flashing brightly as it reflected the first rays of the rising sun. Zola was about to turn back to the dashboard when something caught her attention; the metal wasn't the only thing reflecting sunlight up at the sip. Far, far below her, something was glinting in the light; something that was moving. She unbuckled herself from the pilot's seat and got up to take a better look through one of the side windows and sure enough, there it was:

Between massive walls of stone, a great river wound its way through the canyon and reflected the sunlight back up at her. Zola estimated that it would be wide enough for her to land in, and pulled the altitude lever down sharply. An agonizing screeching sound echoed through the ship, as the thrusters shifted and the landshark dove into the canyon below, trails of smoke billowing behind it.

The landshark sped towards the ground, gaining speed and losing altitude at an alarming rate. Zola's knowledge on flying mechats would have made it difficult to land under optimal circumstances but now she was seriously concerned about whether or not she was going to survive the landing. She pulled up the altitude lever halfway and after an audible groan from the ship's hull, the aircraft righted itself but continued dropping at a breakneck speed. The river below was coming closer and Zola realized that it was substantially wider and likely deeper than she had initially estimated. She had hoped to land the landshark in the river but if it was as deep as it appeared, it would not be worth the risk. As far as she could tell, the riverbanks weren't wide enough to safely land the mechat, so she did her best to get the landshark to level out and remain in the air. All she managed though was to slow the landsharks descent as it sped through the canyon. Fortunately, a larger sandbank soon came into view and Zola tried to gently lower the aircraft as it sped toward the sand.

Once the aircraft was about twenty meters above ground a voice from the speakers suddenly asked "would you like to engage auto landing systems?" Zola pushed the "Yes" button, and hoped for the best as the landshark suddenly dropped and announced "brace for impact" Zola held on tightly as the mechat dropped again, hit the sand and crashed into the ground, as the landshark skidded through the sand, slowly loosing speed. Zola cursed, as the rocky landing shook the ship and knocked her head against the back of the seat, nearly rendering her unconscious. Zola's vision went blurry and by the time she was aware of her surroundings again, the ship had come to a complete stop in the sand. In desperate need to rest for a while in order to regain her senses and her wits, Zola remained in the captains seat for a long time, too physically and mentally exhausted to continue this suicide mission immediately. She had no way of telling how much time had passed, but once the pull of sleep began to lull her mind, Zola realized the danger, snapped her eyes open and started unbuckling. If she fell asleep in her current state, there was no telling how many hours or even days she would be unconscious for. They would find her and they would find her soon. Once unbuckled, she heaved herself out of the seat and ignored the dizziness as she staggered towards the nearest compartment and began searching for anything that might help her survive in the canyon. It only took her approximately five minutes to find a first aid kit and soldiers emergency gear, including food, a filter for drinking water, rope, hooks, a hunting knife and other items Zola did not have the time to analyze. Satisfied with her findings, she unlocked the landsharks door and was momentarily blinded by the harsh sunlight. Ignoring the sharp pain of another headache, she jumped out of the landshark and hurried into the shadows of the canyon.

~o*O*o~

Szabo roared with anger as the mechanics fifth attempt to open the gates failed to let the hunting ships through. He had been quick about getting the thirteen pilots that were aboard the galleon to man their ships and get ready to pursue Zola, however they could not leave until the gates were open, as only two of the small scouting ships were small enough to fly through the hole the landshark had created. So far, the scouting ships had not sighted Zola and Szabo had threatened them a great deal every time they had reported to him.

"Szabo, sir?"

"What?" The robot snapped at the engineer who took a cautious step back.

"It will take at least five more hours to get the gates bent back into a shape that would allow us to properly open them" Szabo looked like he was about to explode and the engineer continued before the robot got a chance to kill him: "However we can unhinge the doors, which will only take about thirty minutes if all engineers work on it at once."

At these words, Szabo perked up slightly: "Do it"

"But if we unhinge them we won't be able to reattach them and the galleon will not be able to safely travel at full speed with such a large hole I its hull."

"Do it!" Szabo screeched. It would be far costlier to him to lose Zola, than to pay for the repair of a few gates. The engineer took off running towards his coworkers, shouting at them to start unhinging the gate.

~o*O*o~

She would have to travel on foot from here on in. That in itself wasn't a problem, she had endurance and the necessary survival skills, but it bothered her that she could not get away as quickly as she would have with her shadow. She knew she was close to the border, but she hadn't crossed it yet. And the borders were the dangerous part, border patrols on both sides kept a watchful eye, to make sure no one got in or out. But it would be a while before she got that far. For now, she needed to concentrate on survival. The arid climate of the canyons would make it difficult to find food. Hunting with weapons was out of the question as she had none and even if she did, she would not be able to wield any without the use of her right hand. She would need to make due with traps in order to catch hares and other small mammals. But food was not her primary concern right now; she needed to put as much distance between her and the mechat as she possibly could, sticking to the shadows whenever possible, it would be difficult, finding a balance between travelling through narrow crevices to remain unseen and staying close enough to the river. Deciding that it would be safest to stay near the river until Szabo's scouts managed to leave the galleon, she began her journey, following the flowing river deeper into the canyons.

~o*O*o~

The sound of large pieces of metal scraping against each other echoed through the lading bay, as the gates finally became unhinged and slid to the ground before tilting and crashing to the ground in a bang that undoubtedly had shattered the eardrums of those workers who were standing too close. Szabo could hardly care though, he had no eardrums and that noise was the sound of success. The massive hole that now opened up the ship to the outside was more than wide enough for the pilots. Turning back to the control panel in front of him, Szabo flipped a switch and an array of green lights flicked on. He smiled as the roar of engines filled the room and watched with excitement as one by one, the ships lifted off the ground and sped through the hall and towards the canyon. Towards the traitor. _Let the hunt begin._

~o*O*o~

Zola looked up at the sliver of sky visible through the top of the canyon. Judging by the angle of the sun, she had a couple hours left until nightfall, which was good since she needed to find somewhere to take cover for the night. If she had been exhausted when the mechat had laded, it was nothing compared to how she felt now; hours of traveling in the blazing sun, wading through the river in order to cover her tracks and the unbearable weight of the stolen supplies had tired her even further and she knew she needed to find shelter before she collapsed. So far there had been no sign of aircrafts but they would be here soon enough, so Zola decided to head into a nearby crevice. She stepped out of the river, water cascading down her legs and plashing onto the sand. It was an odd sensation; the icy waters numbing her legs while the sun burned the exposed skin on her forearms. She was never one to complain though, especially about the heat. Come nightfall, the canyons would turn cold, the lack of moisture in the air meant no heat would be preserved in it and the now welcome breezes of cool air would freeze her in the night. Hoping to avoid hypothermia, she headed into the crevice, hoping to find an overhang, maybe even a cave to spend the night in.

~o*O*o~

Four days, four damn days of relentless searching, issuing threats and being threatened by Nene and still nothing! No trace of that wretched traitor! Szabo growled in anger, Nene was putting him under far too much pressure, he was already working day and night in order to find her, but there was nothing more he could do. Her private quarters, both inside the galleon and in the capitol, had been extensively searched and all her personal logbooks, documents, projects and those she had been involved in had been checked in the hopes of finding any hints as to where Zola might be headed. When that had wielded no significant results, Szabo had all personnel on the galleon as well as every soldier who had been under Zola's direct command questioned extensively. But again, that had wielded no results whatsoever.

Szabo nervously drummed his fingers on the dashboard of the control room, as he watched ad re-watched the footage of the night Zola had finally turned on them. He realized now, that he should not have underestimated her, that he should not have been so cocky as to try and outsmart the infamous (former) general. Of course, he would never outwardly admit that, in fact, he had tried hard to lay most of the blame on Logi, whom she had also outsmarted, but in Nene's eyes, it was all his fault.

With another heavy sigh, Szabo hit "play" on the touchscreen and watched for the twelfth time, as Zola strode through the halls after having killed Nene's lead scientist, but deep down he already knew he wasn't going to find anything useful.

~o*O*o~

Zola bent over to quickly untie the dead hare that had fallen into her trap. After five days in the canyon, there had been virtually no sign of Gran Kingdome's scouts; only once had the sound of a mechat echoed through the maze of rocks she was hiding in, but luckily she had been hidden from sight under a wide ledge at that moment and had gone undetected. However, Zola had decided to play it safe and had moved her temporary camp to a large cave system. It was not as safe as the last spot, which had been at a higher altitude which was less likely to be hit by flash floods, but it offered her a decent place to hide her few stolen belongings and made it easier to cover her tracks, due to the absence of sand in the area.  
Once the animal was untied, she hoisted it over her shoulder and, after briefly checking the sky for possible aircrafts, she headed back to her camp. It took her approximately half an hour, until she spotted the smallest of the caves and unthinkingly headed out of the narrow corridor the rocks had formed, without checking for signs of danger first. Once she stepped into the open space in front of the caves, she knew something was off: the bushes and grasses in the area had been trampled and there were broken twigs on the ground. No animal native to this area was large enough to do this kind of damage to the vegetation. Zola's eyes widened in realization and she dropped the hare in order to reach for her dagger, but it was already too late; she heard the unmistakable click of a firearm's safety catch being released and looked up to see four snipers crouching on the cliffs above, all rifles aimed straight at her. An all too familiar feeling of fear and dread washed over her and she nearly flinched as a deep male voice behind her declared "Former General Zola, you are hereby under arrest for high treason against his highness Lord Nene and the glorious nation of Gran Kingdome. You are not permitted to speak or move without my explicit permission, if you do, my men have both my permission and encouragement to shoot you."

 **Author's notes:**

 **Zola has -once again- managed to get herself into a somewhat difficult situation, but will she be taken prisoner or will she pull off a heroic escape? Who knows. (I do)**

 **Next chapter will be up very soon and as always reviews are always appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

**After another couple of months, the next chapter is finally up, I apologize for the delay. Hopefully this year's updates will be a bit more regular, but I can't make any promises. Now, this chapter contains a bit of violence, so super sensitive readers may want to skip ahead to the first** **~o*O*o~ to avoid the worst of it. It will be very important for the story later on however, so just consider yourself warned.**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own blue dragon, but will accept bribes concerning character pairings.**

The smell of blood and burnt flesh lingered in the air. It shouldn't have, it had been days, maybe weeks. Maybe it was just her imagination. In between sleep deprivation and being locked up in a permanently lit cell with no windows, Zola had lost any sense of time she'd previously had.  
She shifted her weight a little, to ease the discomfort on her right leg which had fallen asleep. Really, it was the very least of her problems and pains but it was the only one she could do anything about. The searing, pulsating pain in between her shoulder blades had somewhat subsided to a low painful throbbing. It would leave a hideous scar.  
 _But then again_ , Zola thought, looking at both the faded white lines of old scars on her bare arms and the bruised and fresh cuts, _what difference will one more make with the collection I've got already.  
_ But it did make a difference to her. Every scar that had been etched into her skin, be it from battles she had fought before she had joined the army, or the ones she had sustained while merely training with Logi; they weren't just hideous to look at: they were grim reminders of all the times she had failed to protect and defend herself.  
A sudden forceful blow to her ribs caused her body to reflexively curl into a defensive position -as much as her shackles would allow- and she gasped for air, momentarily blinded by the pain.  
 _It could be worse,_ she told herself -in fact it had very recently been _much_ worse. But even though the pain was excruciating she did not cry out; she refused to give the soldier the satisfaction of knowing how much she was suffering. Another blow and an angry snarl from the man who towered over her interrupted her thoughts again.  
"Stop dozing off, _traitor_ " Zola glared up at him, wanting nothing more than to beat that smirk off of his face. The way the fool was holding his rifle told her that he had hit her with its butt rather than kicking her like he usually did. It hurt just the same, but the way he was angling it, it would have shot him in the chin if it had gone off as he'd hit her. Zola let out a snort at that thought.  
"What's so funny?" The guard spat, and the rifle was slammed into her ribs again. Unfortunately, it didn't fire and kill him. Another unfortunate thing, was that her captors attempts at keeping her from falling asleep were horribly effective: she hadn't slept in what felt like a week. She was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate and keep her eyes open, which was a serious problem: every time her guards sensed that she was falling sleep, or if she closed her eyes for more than a few seconds, they would make all sorts of noise and threats -or in the case of this horrible guard- kick her in order to keep her conscious. Twice she had unsuccessfully tried to summon Killerbat and the guards -untrusting of Nene's shadow repressor- had decided sleep deprivation was the best way to keep her from focusing on summoning her shadow again. Not that she blamed them; she would have done the same had she been in their place. Their captain was a smart man, but she hated him for it.  
There was no way for her to summon her shadow, no way to escape until the galleon finally reached the outpost she was being held in. Logi and Szabo would both be the ones to transport her back to the galleon and this time keep her there until they reached the capitol, where she was certain Nene would kill her after he learned everything he needed to know about shadows from her. Zola wondered how much time she had until she would be presented to him. The galleon would need at least two weeks to get anywhere near the outpost due to its damaged state. Then it would likely stop for repairs over one of the larger cities before it carried on to the capitol, which would likely take three or four weeks. For all its fighting power and impenetrable defenses, the flying fortress payed for the extra weight by being unable to travel at the same speeds most other aircrafts could. Once she was in the capitol, Zola didn't know what would happen; what Nene would do to her exactly. She knew the unavoidable outcome though. Another kick to her bruised ribs and she was gasping for air again as the guard let out a satisfied grunt at a job well done.

~o*O*o~

Two men on the backs of great, Bactrian camels trekked through the sand, faces covered in heavy white shawls to protect themselves from both the sand and the gazes of curious onlookers. Their journey had taken them across deserts and sheer endless open plains until finally, they were getting close to their ultimate destination. It had been an arduous journey, slowed by rough and life defying terrain, hostile groups of nomads and countless lies and false information provided by shady informants which had led them nowhere. They had been just about ready to give up their rescue mission. But new intel had been presented to them by a familiar informant; one whom they knew they could trust -for the right price. A hefty sum had been payed, but they'd got what they needed; coordinates, names and a sketchy blue print of the building. After a day's preparation and planning, they had packed up their belongings and begun their journey anew.  
The wind picked up, causing sand to hurtle through the air; forcing the travelers to cover their eyes, while they urged their camels -unfazed by the sand- to carry on. As the wind slowly began to die down, the man on the largest camel glanced over at his companion. His turban and robes were now covered in red sand, and the man briefly shook himself to get the worst of it off of his clothes. His mount didn't seem to like the hectic movement at all and reared its head, letting out an angry grunt as it too shook itself in an attempt to get the rider off his back. All it did, however was cause the baggage tied to its humps to rattle loudly and the man to curse in anger, adding to the camel's irritation, which it expressed with another mad grunt. Despite his initial inhibitions about working with the man, he had turned out to be a valuable asset to this mission. He knew exactly how to get his way with people and was not only adept at using machinery, but also a skilled pyrotechnician. His thoughts were interrupted, when his companion suddenly, reached for his satchel and pulled out a pair of gray binoculars and intently scanned the horizon where jagged cliffs loomed over a small forest of ironwood trees. "There it is!" He said in a low voice, his expression uncharacteristically grim. Following his comrades gaze, he too looked ahead and, though it took him a moment, he could have sworn he saw a black outline against the forest, about half a mile off. They both immediately urged their camels to go faster, and as they drew closer, more details came into view; spikes and spires decorated the building's roof and exterior, but the intimidating effect was lost on the travelers. They knew exactly what they were dealing with.

~o*O*o~

An explosion suddenly shook the building, sending dust raining from old cracks in the ceiling. The new guard visibly jumped as he let out an involuntary shout. Alarm bells suddenly shrilled and a female voice from the speakers blared "All soldiers to battle stations, I repeat; al soldiers to battle stations!" The guard glanced at the prisoner who was falling asleep despite the commotion. The glazed look in her eyes disappeared as her eyes closed a moment later. She wouldn't be able to escape or do anyone any harm if she was unconscious, could she? Another order for them to prepare for battle was issued via the speakers and he decided it would be best to do as told and left the cell, checking twice that the lock was secure and that the two guards in front of her cell would remain in place.

~o*O*o~

Zola raised her head and looked around the now empty room to make sure she was alone. Whatever that explosion had been, it offered her a chance at escape. Her only guess was that a nomadic tribe from the bordering Kingdome had been bribed or otherwise persuaded into attacking the Gran Kingdome outpost. No actual troop of soldiers would dare to attack directly, thereby giving Gran Kingdome reason to go to declare war. Or maybe they had heard of her arrest and wanted to capture her to use as a bargaining tool. Something similar had been attempted not too many years ago and Zola didn't put it past them to try again. Either way, this was it; her chance to escape, there would be no second one.  
She tugged at the shackles but as usual, they did not budge. If she could get rid of them, she would need to find a way to unlock the door to her cell. With all the commotion, she doubted anyone was guarding it but even so, she had nothing to break the cell door open with, even if she managed to lose the shackles. Her shadow was her only real chance at escape. But summoning it required an abundance of energy, even if she hadn't been tricked into wearing the shadow repressor, she would have had serious trouble summoning him in her current state. She was so utterly tired that quite frankly, the deafening sound of the alarm bells was the only thing keeping her from falling unconscious. She debated for a few precious moments what to do. She could either use this, likely her very last chance to rest before she was brought to Nene, or she could try to summon her shadow one last time and break out of her cell and flee. Even if it worked, she was exhausted and she knew that if she ran out of energy while her shadow was summoned it would kill her. The only other shadow wielder she had met had died that way and Zola had learned a lot from his mistakes. Faced with the choice between dying at the hands of the creature that had murdered her father or risking her life in one last attempt at escape, Zola didn't have to think twice.

~o*O*o~

He flinched involuntarily, as the first bomb went off, sending a shower of sparks spraying through the air, high enough for him to see them from the other side of the building. Formerly silent guards, suddenly began shouting orders at each other and the navy haired man ducked behind the boulder he'd taken cover behind, as a small squad of soldiers came rushing out of a nearby gate and headed towards the explosion. Without a moment's hesitation, he peered round around the boulder to make sure the coast was clear, and ran for the automatic gates, which were already halfway shut. At the very last moment, he slipped inside, rifle in hand. The gates silently shut behind him and the man was left standing in a deserted hall, in which the sound of alarm bells shrilled at a deafening volume. More soldiers could show up at any moment, so he immediately headed towards his next goal. He had the entire layout of the building converted to memory and hurried through mazes of corridors and halls, always cautious to avoid potentially crowded areas.

"Where do you think you're going young man?" A voice suddenly called from behind him. He turned around slowly and regarded the man as he saluted. His uniform indicated his rank was that of a captain and as only one was supposed to be working inside the outpost, he knew exactly what to say.

"Captain Falk, sir! I was just heading to the engine room." This of course, was the wrong answer and the man bellowed:

"Are you deaf? We. Are. Under. Attack. You have no business being anywhere but at the front gates, defending you post!"

"Sir, I was sent by commander Flint. He ordered for me to guard the engine room in case they manage to penetrate the outpost and try to cause a power outage."

"Why on earth would anyone want to do that?"

"Well, as the commander put it, that way they could cut off our communication with nearby allies and we would be unable to call for help, sir."

The captain regarded him or a moment, as though he was trying figure out if he was being lied to or not.

"What is your name, soldier?"

"Private Aaron, sir"

"Aaron, if I find out you lied, you will face charges for desertion. You may go now, but I will be speaking with Flint once this is over."

"Yes sir, thank you sir!"

"Now go!" Falk barked and he took off towards the engine rooms, before he aroused even more suspicion. He initially ran towards the engine rooms, but as he got close, a sudden shudder went through the entire building and the lights and alarms went out. Smiling to himself, he changed course and headed for their final target: the holding cells. Navigating in the dark wasn't easy, but after a few minutes, the emergency generators managed to produce enough power to at least get the light bulbs working again. He hadn't entirely lied to the captain: the power outage would be enough to cut of all communication from the outpost and hopefully, it would be long while before any reinforcements were sent. After about fifteen more minutes of navigating in the dark light and trying to avoid running into any more Gran Kingdome soldiers, he finally made it to the gate for the holding cells. Two guards stood in front of the electronic gates. The navy haired man once again, did not hesitate and drew a small vile out of his stolen uniform and hurtled it towards the guards. A puff of gray smoke erupted into the air and engulfed the soldiers, who jumped in surprise and tried to fan away the fumes with their hands, before dropping to the ground, unconscious a few moments later. He preferred working this way; avoiding direct combat so he didn't have to kill his enemies in order to get past them. In a few hours they would wake up with a bad headache, but otherwise unharmed. As the smoke dissipated, he took a deep breath before stepping through the remnants of the gray cloud and opening the door to the holding cells where, surprisingly, his partner was already waiting for him.

"How did you get past the guards?" He asked the blonde with a raised eyebrow as he took off his helmet.

"That's not important right now, we need to get that door open!" He gestured towards a heavily sealed door at the end of a row of barred cells.

"You sure that's the one?"

"I already checked all the others, that has to be the one."

"Alright then" He walked over to the door and immediately set to work. He had no keys for any of the countless locks, but given enough time, he would be able to break them open one by one.

~o*O*o~

Minutes that felt like hours went by with each passing moment, the chances of soldiers finding them seemed grew, as there was no way to be certain when the guards would wake up and alert their comrades. At least half an hour had passed, when a distinct clinking noise caught the blondes attention, who turned and caught his partners eye: _This is it._ The man took a step back and slowly -as though there was something dangerous waiting behind the door- he opened it. From where he was standing, he couldn't see inside the cell, but the sudden horrified look on his companion's face told him all he needed to know.

They had failed.

The navy haired man lowered his head in defeat and pinched his brow, disbelief and anger written all over his face. The blonde stepped up to the cell and saw the contents for himself as feelings of anger and irritation overcame him as well: a woman with tangled silver hair sat hunched over in the center of the room, her wrists chained to a metal hoop in the ground. She had been dressed in the same orange prison garb as the other inmates, but as opposed to them, she did not react when the door opened, indicating that she was either unconscious or dead. A streak of black, dried blood ran from the back of her head down the significant length of her hair; an injury she might have sustained during her capture, the blotches of red that stained her clothes however meant that she had been injured long after her arrest. Whoever the woman was, she either had important knowledge or had done something to seriously anger one of the high ranking military officers, or perhaps even one of Gran Kingdome's elite. More often than not, Gran Kingdome's leaders used violent measures to reach their (often questionable) goals, but never without due reason and justification. Whatever the cause for her imprisonment may have been, what troubled him far more, was the fact that she was here in this exact cell -or rather that someone else was not. The comrade they had had spent months of preparation, travel and sheer endless combat to find, was gone and in his place, lay an unconscious stranger.

 **Author's notes:**

 **Did you initially think the two men had come to rescue Zola or did you find the clues that they were searching for someone else? Sorry to do the "the navy haired one did this" and "The blond did that" to you, I get kind annoyed when I read ffs where this is overused but names wont be revealed until next chapter so for now, this was the best solution I could come up with.** **¯\\_(** **ツ** **)_/¯ Next** **chapter will hopefully be up sometime this month depending -as always- on both the time and motivation I have. Reviews by the way, are a great motivation so please let me know what you think of this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own blue dragon. I do however own a dog, so hopefully that counts for something._

Alistair heaved the unconscious woman down from the camel's back and gently set her down on one of the sleeping mats. She showed no reaction as she was moved and he regarded the woman with a sad expression, feeling genuinely bad for her. Initially, he'd felt an overwhelming sense of anger toward the prisoner, simply because she had been in their targets place, but once he'd realized the state she was in, he had felt sympathy more than anything else. It had been almost two days since their failed rescue mission and she'd had yet to wake up. They had ridden as fast and as far as their mounts could take them and had finally decided to set up camp in a small forest, shaded by the high cliffs above them. Shielded from sight and banking on the military's relatively slow ground movements, they deemed themselves safe for the time being. They'd had enough foresight to plan and scout out their escape route long before their attack and luckily, they'd managed to find it despite the many detours they'd had to take to throw off their pursuers. If they had gotten lost, they would have been forced to spend the night out in the open plains, despite the danger it would have posed, as both the camels and their riders desperately needed to rest. The only stop they had taken the previous day, was in order to let the camels drink and to hastily dress the woman's wounds. Luckily, her injuries had looked a lot worse than they actually were, the bruising and cuts had all turned out to be relatively superficial. But two things had them worried: her left hand was clearly broken, and the bones would have to be realigned by a medical professional. Neither he nor his partner were willing to risk damaging it further by even attempting it themselves. Far more worrisome however was the fact that she was still unconscious; neither the sound of the alarms, nor the racket they'd made breaking her handcuffs, or even the following two days of riding at full speed over uneven terrain had woken her. With no clue as to the reason for her condition, all they could do was wait and hope she would recover soon.  
As the sun began its descent, they set up their camp for the night.

~o*O*o~

Alistair sat in front of the sad remains of the campfire, and threw in a few dry twigs, hoping to keep the small flame going until Christopher -who had left to gather more firewood- finally returned. He was just about to get up and gather some of the loose twigs lying around their campsite, when suddenly something gripped his navy hair and pulled his head back with a painful jolt. As he yelled out in surprise and alarm, the unmistakable cold blade of a knife was held against his throat and he froze in place, not daring to move a muscle.

"Move and you're dead" an angry voice hissed from behind him; it was rough but definitely female.

Overcome by momentary shock and surprise, Alistair did not dare speak as the blade was pushed dangerously hard against his throat. There was no doubt it was the prisoner threatening him.

 _She must have waited until one of us was alone._ He thought, wondering how long she had been conscious and exactly how many of their conversations she had overheard.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded, releasing the pressure on his throat just enough to allow for him to speak without impaling himself on the blade she must have stolen.

"We're messengers from Lumina, there's no need-" He broke off the end of his sentence as the knife was pushed against his throat again.

"Messengers who break into prisons and abduct inmates?"

He was about to answer when his partner suddenly reappeared from in-between the trees, holding a rather large pile of dry branches. His eyes widened when he saw the prisoner holding a knife to his companions throat but before he could react further, she hissed: "Do what I say or your partner dies"

"There is no need for violence or threats, we mean you no harm" He said calmly, but stayed where he was. Zola ignored his words completely.

"Put the wood down and disarm yourself." She ordered and Christopher listened, slowly putting down the firewood, taking care to make sure she could see he was not trying to trick her. He then hesitated a moment before unbuckling the halter for his sword and gently putting it down beside the branches. He proceeded to retrieve an array of knives and daggers from his pockets, and when he made it clear he was done, she ordered for him to take of his coat and put it aside, then had him turn around slowly, hands in the air. This woman was not messing around, or taking any chances. She eyed him carefully, searching for possible disguised weapons, but did not seem to find any indicators for them. "Who are you?" She demanded, Alistair tried to answer for him, she pulled his head back further

"I'll explain if you put down the knife" Christopher said in a calm tone.

"How about you explain and I'll decide based on the plausibility of your answers whether or not I kill your friend."

~o*O*o~

Christopher stood there for a moment, contemplating his options. "I am going to sit down now, then I will tell you what you want to know." He narrated as he moved beside the glimmering campfire and slowly sat down, his hands in the air to indicate he had no intention of acting rashly or aggressively towards her. Once he'd sat down beside the fire, he placed his hands on his knees, where Zola could see them and began to explain:

"My name is Christopher and this is my partner Alistair. We are informants -to an extent. Let's just say we gather information that is …hard to come by. Some call us mercenaries but really, we only fight when necessary in order to gain intel."

He exchanged a long glance with Alistair and then sighed, deciding to throw a bit of honesty into the mix.

"This mission however is an exception. We were hired to find and… _retrieve_ a certain individual -by whom is not of importance. We've been traveling for many months now and our last remaining lead pointed towards this person being imprisoned within one of the only two Gran Kingdome outposts between the Canyonlands and the border to the Metia Republic. This person would have been heavily guarded but the first outpost we infiltrated held no prisoners at that point, so, we headed to the remaining outpost but when we broke into the only high security cell there, we found you instead."

"And so you decided to _retrieve_ another prisoner" the woman said in disgust, but Christopher felt downright insulted.

"I won't pretend we decided to break you out of that prison out of the good of our hearts, but don't misunderstand me. We are not slave traders and we do not abduct and sell prisoners. Our services don't ordinarily include such unconventional methods but you are our last hope in finding this person."

Her face remained emotionless and her body language also gave no indication if she believed his story or not. When she spoke again, however he felt like some of the hostility in her voice had gone.

"And what if I don't tell you what I know?"

"That would be rather unfortunate. We had of course expected you to be somewhat forthcoming since we just saved your life."

The woman snorted: "Saved? Gran Kingdome's entire military forces from this region will be out searching for you _and_ me. You broke into two outposts and freed a high security prisoner, how on earth do you expect to escape them?"

He smiled. "We've performed many high-risk missions like this and have never been caught before, you can count on our expertise to keep you safe."

She, however looked thoroughly unconvinced "As long as I am within Gran Kingdome's borders I am anything but safe. At best you've prolonged my life by however many days it will take them to find us."

Christopher immediately realized what she was getting at and decided to guide their conversation in the direction of a deal: "There is no point denying that you need our help if you want to remain free. In your current state I doubt you'll be able to survive out here in the wilderness for long and we're going to be the only ones willing to help a former prisoner like you evade gran Kingdome forces. You need us to survive and we need you to find our man." He intentionally let their target's gender slip, hoping to gauge from her reaction whether or not she actually knew whom he was talking about, but the woman's features remained unreadable.

"Tell me what you know about the man. There were many prisoners in there, beside me."

"He is a rather tall man with light brown hair and a scraggly beard. He's got black eyes, and has been described as a rather muscular brute with a loud and demanding personality."

"I'll need to know more than that" The woman said, urging him to continue.

Christopher sighed and gave his partner a long look before he nodded. "This man worked as a messenger between Metia's and Gran Kingdome's governments for two years, until about seven months ago, when he was caught copying top secret scrolls Metia's security council had instructed him to deliver to one of Nene's secretaries. An extensive search of his living quarters revealed about a dozen further copies of various other scrolls. We think he may have been sending them off to foreign governments, in order to help them undermine any further treaties and alliances between the two nations. All nations bordering Gran Kingdome fear being invaded if Nene's rise to power continues, that's an undeniable fact. But what many of them also fear, is that the other nations may strike deals with Gran Kingdome's leadership to join military forces and help overthrow neighboring countries governments and in return be spared that same fate. Metia has openly expressed intentions to aid Gran Kingdome in future military operations so any of the remaining countries would have due reason to have payed this man to spy for them. Either way, the man escaped at first and we were sent to _retrieve_ him, but Gran Kingdome's forces found him long before we did and once he was arrested, we lost his trail. We've spent months investigating every hint and clue about his whereabouts we could get, until finally, we determined that he was being held in one of the outposts. You already know the rest of the story."

Zola regarded him with a long hard look before responding:

"You're looking for a man named Legolas." She said coolly, it was not a question but a statement.

Christopher couldn't help his eyes widening and a tinge of excitement leaked into his voice. "Do you know where he is?"

"If you can get me out of Gran Kindome's territory, I will tell you all I know"

"Better yet" Christopher smiled "We can get you off the continent"

 **Author's notes:**

Well, that was February's belated chapter, hope you enjoyed it. The next one will be up towards the end of this month, I promise/hope.

Whether you liked or hated this chapter, I would love to know what you think and if you guys have any suggestions for improvements, please leave a review if you have a few moments to spare.

Also imma need some good male names for upcoming characters but I really haven't been able to think of any I liked, so if anyone's got some suggestions, that would be great!


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter seven**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Dragon**_

Zola awoke to the first rays of the rising sun shining on her face. As consciousness slowly returned, her first thought was that she needed far more sleep than he had gotten. Quite frankly, she felt like she'd been trampled by a flock of cockatrice. But as she blinked her eyes open, the memories of last night resurfaced and she knew there was no returning to sleep.

She opened her eyes and reflexively raised her uninjured arm, to shield them from the bright sunlight, which cast long, black shadows across the camp, as she took in her whereabouts. She was sitting, leaning against the side of a tall cliff, dagger in hand.

As she took in her surroundings, she instantly saw Christopher lying across the small camp, under a blanket, apparently asleep, the bonfire had long since gone out and the tethered camels were silently grazing on the scarce vegetation. As her gaze drifted across the camp, she found Alistair sitting near the remnants of the fire, staring straight at her. He was absolutely silent, but his expression told her all she needed to know: poorly hidden hostility and distrust were plastered over his features, his stern gaze locked onto her. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, in a clear display of hostility and defensiveness (not that she blamed him for his distrust). He was evidently on guard duty, but rather than facing away from camp, he was facing her directly, evidently considering her a far greater threat than their pursuers.

Suddenly, the man let out a quiet exhale, like he needed to do something he really rather wouldn't. "You should eat" He said, his voice rough and tired, like he hadn't slept, which was likely the case as him and Christopher had apparently both kept watch over night, to make sure no one outside -or rather inside- the camp attacked them.

Zola was about to respond, when she registered movement in her peripheral vision; and turned to see Christopher sit up calmly and nodd at Alistair before he looked over at Zola.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked, in a far kinder tone than his partner had used just a moment ago. "There won't be time to stop and rest for lunch, we need to eat now before we leave"

Alistair answered in her stead "She just woke up a few minutes ago, all we have left is dried meat and cold soup."

"Then soup will do" Christopher nodded as he began packing away his bedroll as Alistair retrieved a set of cups from his luggage and began to pour an orangish liquid from the pot that still hung over their firepit. He got up and handed Christopher and then Zola a cup and she took care to take it without touching his hand.

She didn't drink it immediately, and instead took a precautious whiff, noticing that it had a peculiar smell to it, that she couldn't quite place. A visual inspection on the cloudy broth however didn't give her much information about its ingredients either. All she could tell, was that the green bits floating in it came from an herb locals often used to add spice to their traditionally bland meals. Either way, she was less worried about the ingredients, than about other things that might have been mixed into the soup. After all, she had come close to killing one of these men yesterday and given how little she knew about them, she could not afford to let her guard down.

Alistair who was evidently still watching her every move, decided to comment: "It's not poisoned."

"Then you won't mind drinking it first, will you?" She responded coldly, prompting Alistair to downright glare at her. Before he could snap back at her, Christopher intervened:

"You are wise not to trust strangers like us, but please believe me; you are far more valuable to us alive than dead. We have a deal after all, and neither one of us can afford to back out of it." He said sternly, before taking a large sip of the hot brew in his cup. Zola then locked her eyes on Alistair, who after a moments hesitancy, and obvious disdain, drank from his cup too.

"What exactly is your plan then?" Zola asked, looking back to Christopher.

"There's a small village, about a day's ride north of here, hopefully, there will be a doctor there who-"

"No." Zola interrupted, in a hard tone. "It's too dangerous, neither of us can afford to go anywhere near civilization at the moment. There will be a substantial bounty on your heads too by now."

Christopher raised an eyebrow at Zola and gestured to her injured Hand, which she was cradling in her lap in an attempt to keep it as still. "You need professional help and there's only so much we can do"

But Zola didn't back down: "I can deal with it until we leave the country, it's not worth the risk of getting caught."

She could tell that Christopher was not about to let the matter go, so she continued. "This is not up for discussion."

Christopher, gave her a stern look before he got up and said "We'll see about that, but for now, we need to get going; the longer we stay here, the sooner they'll find us"

Zola was growing increasingly agitated, as the camels every move sent her swaying back and forth, causing ever increasing discomfort for her injured hand which she was finding difficult to keep still, under the circumstances.

They had formed a line, with Christopher riding at the front, followed closely by Zola while Alistair, whom she knew was watching her like a hawk, rode behind her. Christopher had fastened a long rope from the reigns of Zola's camel to the saddle of his own, ensuring that she couldn't simply ride off the moment he got distracted.

In order to distract herself and to get a better sense of whom she was dealing with, she used the time to analyze Christopher more closely: despite the fact that they had been riding nonstop for approximately 9 hours, his posture was still perfect and she hadn't seen him slouch or even wipe the sweat off his brow even once. Even though she had only met the man last night and he had given her virtually no personal information about himself, Christopher's body language spoke volumes.

His fluid and calculated movements, the slight raising of his chin when he spoke and his utterly calm reaction to the dangerous situation he had been in yesterday, were very similar to how she normally acted, but there was more to it than that: He expressed a kind of pride and power in the way he carried himself, which strongly reminded her of all the nobility she'd met with in the past few years. Though as opposed to them, he seemed to lack the typical arrogance and self-righteousness that usually accompanied power and wealth.

Whoever this man was, she was sure, he enjoyed a very high status, despite the dirty work he was doing. Or, at the very least, he'd been part of a noble family who'd lost their power and privileges and was now forced to earn money, rather than have it handed to them via inheritance or taxation.

As time went on, her thoughts became less focused, as the fact that she hadn't managed to sleep nearly as long as she'd needed to, became ever more apparent. She gazed towards the sun, noting that its descent had already begun. She knew once it disappeared behind the horizon, staying awake would become significantly more difficult.

Preoccupied by thoughts of the grueling hours to come, she allowed herself a heavy sigh and closed her eyes for just a moment.

Her first thought, was that she felt refreshed; no pain, no fatigue, no sense of imminent danger. It felt like she'd finally woken up after another horrifying nightmare. She took a deep breath to relax, but before she'd even opened her eyes, she knew something was off. The air smelt… _sterile_ ; like a toxic mixture of disinfectant and cleaning chemicals; a smell she knew all too well from all the Laboratories she'd worked in.

Zola suddenly blinked her eyes open in confusion as she took in her surroundings. The first thing she saw was a cracked, white ceiling that felt utterly unfamiliar. She knew she wasn't inside her quarters in the capital, nor in the Galleon and she wasn't inside a cell either. Confused, she sat up and turned to her right to where the bright light shone through two large windows. Outside, palm trees swayed in the wind and behind them, she could make out the vague outlines of mountains in the distance.

As Zola turned to her left, she saw Alistair sitting in a chair, once again watching her. This time though, he didn't seem hostile. If anything, he seemed worried and he spoke, before she could even ask what had happened. "How are you feeling?"

She blinked, surprised by his complete change in demeanor, but ignored his question none the less. "Where am I?" She demanded, realizing that her voice sounded far less hoarse than it had the last time she'd spoken.

"We're in a small hospital in Lago village. " Alistair explained calmly and continued before she could ask the obvious question "You blacked out after we left the canyons, so we brought you here. The doctor said you should be fine once you've rested for a while. Your wounds are dressed, he _fixed_ and braced your arm. They figure you passed out due to fatigue and dehydration."

Zola looked down at herself and finally realized, there was a cast around her arm. It was an old fashioned one, which severely restricted her range of movement. She would have to make due somehow, but it would put her in a vulnerable position in case of a fight. Her sense of unease began to grow; there was a good reason why she had explicitly told them she wouldn't go anywhere near a doctor and people in general. Dreading what she'd find, she used her healthy hand to feel between her shoulder blades and sure enough, she felt the rough fabric of a large square bandage. _Oh, gods no!_

 __"How long was I out?" She asked Alistair in alarm.

"Two days" he answered, surprised by her sudden alertness and after seeing her openly horrified expression added: "We're in a remote village, completely cut off from civilization and so far, we've found no evidence of any pursuers, there's no need to worry."

"We need to get out of here now!" Zola hissed in a low voice, as she got up so quickly, Alistair blinked in surprise at how she'd gone from comatose to jumping off the bed in a matter of seconds.

"You shouldn't be getting up yet, you're in no state-"

"I need clothes!" She interrupted, realizing it would be impossible to fight in the hospital gown she was wearing.

"There's a pile of clothes on the nightstand, but you really need to rest before we move on."

"We don't have time!" She replied and turned to pick up the clothes and swiftly spread them out on the bed. Everything was colored similarly to the sandy tones, the two men wore, which would help her blend into the landscape and they had bought a variety of sizes in the hopes that something would fit. Zola grabbed what she needed and what she guessed would fit and disappeared into the bathroom connected to the main room, leaving behind a rather confused Alistair.

She emerged from the bathroom two minutes later, dressed in hiking boots, cargo pants, a jacket and a shawl covering her conspicuous white hair.

"Why are you still sitting there, they could be here any minute, for all we know troops are surrounding the town right now!" She hissed at Alistair who was still calmly sitting in his chair.

"These people have no electricity, and the closest military outpost to this village is the one we got you out of, which is just under a week's ride away from here" 

"They have carrier pigeons!"

"Which leads me to my second point; we made sure the only people to see you were the doctor and his nurses, there is no possible way these people could know you were a prisoner."

There was no time to explain her dilemma to this stubborn man, so she just downright lied: "I've been here before; these people know me and they know I was arrested with absolutely no chance of a pardon or even a trial. And now suddenly I'm back, covered in injuries, accompanied by two highly suspicious strangers who clearly aren't from around here. Just because they don't have access to modern technology does not mean that these people are stupid."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Alistair practically growled, finally realizing the danger they were in and getting out of the chair. "We told you we were coming to this village and you didn't say a thing!"

"I told you explicitly that I couldn't have this doctor tend to my injuries, and you brought me here anyway!"

"Don't you dare place the blame on us, you kept vital information from us and put us all in danger!"

"I don't have time to argue with you; the army is underway and I'm not going to sit here and wait until we caught." She hissed and headed towards the window behind Alistair, where she glanced outside, making sure there were no people around.

"I'm leaving and if you want to live I suggest you do the same" She stated and propped her healthy hand up on the windowsill before she swung her legs over the edge and jumped.

Author's notes:

Sorry that it took so long, but life's been a bit hectic plus I've spent what time I had messing with the old chapters that will get updated at some point.

Anyway, if you liked this chapter, please leave a review 😊.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

 _Alistair_

Alistair didn't waste a single moment and snatched his satchel off the ground and jumped over the windowsill, landing smoothly in the grass. It might have been more dramatic, had they not been on the ground floor, but Alistair was still amazed at the amount of energy the woman possessed, after having been unconscious for so long. He quickly looked around and saw her to his right, sprinting straight towards the forest at the edge of the village. Alistair took off after the woman and for a moment he thought he'd lost her, when she disappeared behind a group of trees. But then, suddenly he spotted her startlingly white hair whipping behind her as she ran; a stark contrast against the dark, muddy colors of the forest. It didn't take long for him to catch up to the woman, as she suddenly stopped beside a large tree and turned around to face him. She was already breathing rather heavily, and Alistair figured she'd seriously underestimated her strength.  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, but unsurprisingly, she completely ignored his question.

"Where is your partner?" She asked, panting slightly.

"We've set up camp north of the village. We weren't planning on leaving for another week."

The woman shook her head, an intense look in her eyes.

"We're leaving now, before it's too late"

Before continuing the argument, Alistair just took in the sight of her for a moment. Before him stood a short, injured woman, clearly exhausted after having run such a short distance and surely traumatized by what had happened to her in the outpost. Despite her temperamental and bossy attitude, he felt pity for her and he decided to ignore his anger and take a gentler approach to their conversation.

"Look, I understand that you're scared that the military will catch you and hurt you again and of course they'll be on the lookout for you and everyone else we freed, but you're just one of many prisoners. You're not their first priority. We've just put a significant distance between us and that outpost, they'll expect us to have fled across the border into Metia, the last place they'll be searching is this far inland."

Rather than making another rude remark or denying his claim, the woman went very still and looked at him, like she was searching for something in his expression, and when her icy blue eyes met his, it felt like she was staring straight into his soul.

 _Zola_

There was nothing. Not a single indicator that the man was lying to her. Was he actually telling the truth or was he far better at masking his true emotions than he let on?  
She was exceptionally good at reading people; it had been a necessity in her position, to take any and all clues she could derive from a person's body language, facial expression, speech etc. in order to help her work out their true intentions. But despite her extensive studies and years of experience analyzing people, there was nothing in this man's behavior that indicated that he was being anything but sincere. He really did pity her. If that was true, it meant that he -and by extension his partner- didn't know who she actually was. Had they really only found her by accident? As highly unlikely as that was, she had to at least consider the possibility that they really hadn't freed her in order to use her as a political bargaining tool, or if they were really stupid, to attempt to trade her in for the massive bounty Nene had put on her head. Maybe they had actually been searching for Legolas after all…

Only a few moments had passed, but she could clearly tell that Alistair was growing very uncomfortable -but not nervous- under her gaze. She decided to let it go for now. Even if he didn't know anything, she would have to talk to his partner to see if she could gather any more information from him.  
"It doesn't matter how far we travel, if the villagers have alerted the military, they will send a search party at the very least and you don't have the man power or adequate weapons to fight them. We're in incredible danger as long as we stay here. You need to take this seriously! Prisoners were freed from a high security outpost; it's not just a matter of the soldiers making up for their mistakes, it is a matter of pride as well. They will hunt you down with everything they've got." She tried not to sound as accusatory this time. If he really thought she was simply lashing out at him out of fear of getting caught, maybe he would take her more seriously if she was a bit more civil and presented him with rational arguments rather than just demands.

"I realize that we'll have to put more distance between our camp and the village, in case the villagers really do come looking for you, but we have to stay in the area for a while. If you really want to keep arguing, take it up with Christopher, he'll be the one to decide where we go from here." Alistair's response was far from what she wanted to hear, but perhaps she would have more luck if she talked some sense into his partner instead.

"Fine, then let's go" she agreed and indicated for him to lead the way to their camp.

 _Alistair_

As Alistair returned from watering the camels, he was unsurprised to find Christopher still in the midst of a heated argument with the former prisoner. He shook his head and led the camels to a group of tall trees by the edge of the camp, where he began tying them up. He understood her fear, but really, she was blowing the whole thing way out of proportion. There was a good reason why they needed to remain near the village for another couple of days and he wondered whether or not she might try to escape if they continued to refuse to leave. Technically speaking, she wasn't their prisoner, she was merely travelling under their protection. However, they desperately needed the information she supposedly possessed and Alistair was curious to see just how far Christopher was willing to go in order to get that information from her. Whatever his decision would be, Alistair would have no choice but to go along with it.

Just as he had finished tying up the last camel, her heard a distinct rustling noise coming from behind him and swiftly turned around, his hand at his sword. Christopher and the woman had heard it too, and were both scanning the forest for whatever oh whoever was making the noise. Christopher quietly drew his sword and motioned for the woman to get behind him, to which she obliged. The sound grew louder and soon he recognized it as the sound of footsteps on dry soil, along with the rustling of plants. What was far more alarming than the obvious signs of people heading their way, was the fact that the noise was coming from more than one direction. Soon, the rustling was coming from all sides and Alistair too drew his sword, as he moved towards Christopher. They stood back to back, keeping the woman between the two of them, in order to protect her.

 _Zola_

They came from all sides. Marching in unison, the soldiers entered the clearing, every one of them armed with curved swords and dressed in light armor. From what Zola could see, there were no archers and luckily no firing weapons. This had to be a more rural troop. Nene refused to arm his forces in less military dominated areas with anything but traditional weapons to prevent any advanced weaponry from getting in the wrong hands.  
Despite the fact that they weren't as heavily armed as she'd feared, they were severely outnumbered. She counted fifteen men in total. She herself was unarmed and even if Christopher and Alistair decided to stand their ground and fight, she didn't how skilled at fighting they really were. Even if they were exceptionally skilled, there was no way they could each take on seven men at the same time. If only she were able to summon her shadow; she would have dealt with the soldiers within the blink of an eye, but now, even her chances of fleeing from the battle were slim. She had to rely on the two men, but what if they decided to hand her over rather, than face almost certain death?

As the soldiers readied their weapons for attack, another man emerged from the forest. Dressed in a dark, grey armor brandishing the Gran Kingdome insignia, he strode ahead, an unpleasantly smug smile on his lips. His crimson cape dramatically flowed behind him, revealing a sheathed longsword hung by his belt. It was the captain of this squad and two of his soldiers wordlessly moved aside to let him pass through the ring they'd formed around the campsite. He stopped, about ten feet in front of her, and regarded the three of them for a moment. The Captain only briefly glanced at Alistair and Christopher, but when his gaze focused on her, his smug smile tuned into a nasty grin.  
"And here I was wondering, if we were ever going to find you again, _Zola_ "

 **Author's notes:**

 **Sorry about not posting for so long, there's been a lot going on lately, but one of my new years resolutions was to actually stick to the schedule I set my self and post a chapter per month. Well see if that actually works out though …**

 **Anyway, please let me know whether you liked or hated this chapter, I absolutely love getting feedback, even if its in form of a critique!**


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